


The Saint and the Prince of Gotham

by BL4CKB377Y



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 06:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BL4CKB377Y/pseuds/BL4CKB377Y
Summary: Her mission was hope and light; his was a fight in the dark. Both of them were seemingly fated to walk their separate paths alone. Only together will they discover that their fight for hope and peace cannot be won without the other. After all, night isn't night without the day.





	1. St. Barbara's Abbey

**Author's Note:**

> HI! I'm Betty! I posted this story on other sites before but I am hoping by posting it here it may kick my muse into gear to write more chapters!
> 
> That being said, onto the standard disclaimer. I do not own or lay claim to either Batman or Christian Bale, or anything related to DC comics! I am not making any money off of this! This story is being written strictly to appease my own muse. If it happens to entertain others in the process that is just a bonus! Thank you!

**_|| December 5, 1973. Gotham City.||_ **

A wailing cry broke through the maelstrom of the night. Lightning and thunderclaps shook the earth as a lithe, hooded figure ran through the streets, trying to remain unnoticed as they made their way through the streets. A heeled boot was the only indication that the figure might be a woman. With her she carried a small blessing bundled tightly in her arms. This very bundle being the source of the wailing sobs. The woman's destination was clear only to her and her steps were determined and focused and she moved with a great haste. Despite her dedicated pace, she could not help form glancing behind her ever so often, as if she feared someone were following her.

It wasn't until the visage of St. Barbara's Cathedral of Light and Life loomed near that the tension lessened from her shoulders. As the cloaked woman reached the cover of the cathedral steps, she approached the door reverently as if about to greet some sort of royalty or saint. She opened her cloak slightly to peer down at the whimpering babe in her arms. Clearly a newborn child, yet its dark raven hair was so thick upon its head you'd think it was at least a couple weeks old. A drop of water fell into the babe's ebony hair that had nothing to do with the rain. The cloaked woman was crying, tears flowing from her cerulean eyes. The very same cerulean color that stared up at her from a precious and tiny face.

Tentatively, the woman leaned down and laid a soft kiss on the babe's forehead. She then turned her face upwards and closed her eyes, sending a silent prayer to whatever Gods would still listen to her. The woman turned her head sharply as if she had heard something. She then draped something around the child's neck before wrapping the weeping babe back up in a purple quilt. The woman stepped up to the door and placed the child gently on the bottom step. She lingered a moment where she placed another kiss upon the child's forehead. When she moved to stand, it took her a moment to pry the lock of her hair from the babe's small fist.

When the child began to cry again at the loss of touch, the woman stood and pulled the heavy rope that would signal the Cathedral's loud bell. She didn't wait for it to ring, however, before she turned fast on her heels and ran into the night. With the woman's flight, the child's lungs opened again, ushering forth another wail of sorrow and despair; the remarkable thing though was that with the child's cry several more lightning bolts blazed through the sky accompanied by the loudest cracks of thunder.

Moments that stretched for ages went by before the large cathedral doors creaked open. A hand carrying a lantern appeared through the crack. As the opening widened it revealed a man in black robes with a white collar, and sandy blonde hair. The gentleman stepped out into the night, peering into the darkness when he almost tripped over something at his feet. He stepped back in even more surprise when the bundle began to sob.

Looking down, he shouted aloud, "Oh, my lord!" The man who was clearly a bishop, peered his head back in the doorway, speaking adamantly to someone just inside.

Two women adorned in Habit appeared through the open door gasping as they saw the bundle on the ground. The younger of the two, with fair skin and kind eyes lifted the child up, shushing and bouncing it gently in her arms. The other woman, older with a sterner complexion and eyes that had seen much of life, stepped out further from the doorway. She stopped just before the roof cover ended, barely avoiding the rain. Then, with another lantern in hand, the older Sister gazed, squinting out into the night, desperately trying to spot who could have left the child... But there was nothing... No one.

Suddenly the younger woman called out, _"Reverend Mother!"_

The older woman abandoned her surveillance of the streets. Lifting her robes slightly as to not let them drag on the damp stairs, she returned to the younger Sister's side. The younger woman showed the Reverend Mother a necklace that had been draped around the child's neck. It was an amulet of the Saint Barbara. The older woman turned it over in her hand where she read the inscription written on the back;

Think with your mind,  
but listen to your heart.  
Follow your Instincts,  
but use your head.  
Trust your feelings,  
but do not be lead by them.  
Love with all your soul,  
but do not let it swallow you.  
Trust in yourself,  
and you can light up the world!

The Reverend Mother recognized the medallion but not the inscription. Who was this child? and Who would have left her behind? Whoever they were and whatever prompted their actions, the Reverend Mother was only too grateful that they had found her. The streets of Gotham were no safe place for a baby. With a few more reverently uttered words, the bishop ushered both women inside, with the child. The abbey had a center for orphaned children. The babe would be a much-welcomed addition to their growing number.

 

 

**_...Six Years later...  
...|| December 16, 1979. St. Barbara's Abbey, Gotham City.||..._ **

 

A large group gathered outside of the inferno which had engulfed St. Barbara's Abbey. A dozen of its Sisters were in a panic as they took number of the children around them. The fire department had responded quickly, thank the lord, but it had not been fast enough to save most of the abbey. Nor to save little Mary-Barbara who had still not been accounted for. According to one of the other children, Barbara had been sleeping off a bit of headache in her room. One of the first rooms that had been overtaken by the fire. Hours upon hours passed before the firefighters had put out enough of the flames, in order to be able to perform a thorough and careful search of the building.

The Reverend Mother and her fellow Sisters watched in trepidation as the brave men entered the building. The reverend mother could not stave off a sense of sorrow and dread for her star child and pupil. Barbara had been one of their most gifted children. She'd just celebrated her Sixth birthday this month, but was already learning at a 4th grade level. At that rate she'd probably have graduated finishing school by 14. A true testament to how their program was working to educate today's lost and abandoned youths. Barbara was gifted, special. Surely, she would have accomplished great things should she have been given the chance.

The few bishops their abbey had were occupying themselves with other tasks, helping the officials in any way they could; one helped with minding the frightened children, others assisted the authorities. After a long wait, a smoke stained fireman approached the group, mainly addressing the head Bishop, in black robes. He handed the bishop what appeared to be a cracked and charred glass bottle with an ashy rag sticking from the top. It was then they learned the fire had been no accident. All their heart's broke and sank even further with this new revelation. It appeared there was an arsonist on the loose. But who in their right mind would choose to strike an abbey? A Christian school for children and orphans no less! It was beyond any of them! What evil person would do such a thing?

Just as this news was being processed, another commotion began when several voices called out over the Fire Chief's radio. They all looked towards the building where two firemen appeared, walking slowly from the smoke and wreckage. One was carrying a prone, seemingly lifeless young girl in his arms; her raven black hair fell like a curtain over his arm.

A gentleman perhaps in his mid thirties approached the firefighters with a gurney in tow. The man holding her laid her down gently where the familiar doctor immediately began checking her over for injury. He placed an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth and checked her vitals. Apart from a few smudges, a fractured ankle where the floor had collapsed beneath her and some smoke stain transferred to her from the firefighters who'd rescued her, she was positively unscathed. No burns, or abrasions. No singed or scorched flesh or clothing. Her chest was rising and falling evenly, no coughing, or wheezing. Apart from her ankle and a bloody nose, she was perfectly fine.

Judging on where the fireman had said they'd found her, the girl should have been burnt to a crisp. Yet, here she was. The doctor returned his stethoscope to wrap back around his neck and he scratched his head looking puzzled.

The Reverend Mother stepped forward. "Dr. Wayne? What is it? Is she dead?"

The doctor didn't respond to her directly, instead he focused his attention on the firefighter who'd brought her free. "Are you sure you found her in the the dormitory?"

"Yes, sir. She was just lying there curled into a ball on the floor; like she were afraid of something."

By all reason and evidence, the girl should have been beyond dead. It made little sense to Dr. Wayne, but he was a man of faith as well as science. He knew first hand that not everything could be explained with statistics and logic. He knew he was seeing a miracle first hand. Thomas Wayne knew this girl was special.

One by one, those gathered all looked down at the unconscious girl. Over a dozen eyes, stared hard at her. Some looked on in awe, whispering words about miracles and divine providence, some of them were just down right confused. Behind almost every set of eyes staring at her, however, there also laid a tinge of fear; fear of what they didn't understand; fear of what they all knew, by everything the world, science, everything had taught them, was impossible; fear of the enigma they could never comprehend. Forget that she could have died in that inferno. Forget that she was just a little girl making her way in life. Forget the prodigy who would rise to do great things. All this girl would be to them now, was terribly wrong.

It seemed only the good doctor and the Reverend Mother could see the miracle and the gift that lay before them.


	2. Public District Number 4

**_||Another two years later..._ **

**_... October 26, 1981. Gotham City Orphanage, Public District No. 4||_**  
  
Two years had passed and they still talked about that tragic day at the Abbey; about Barbara's miraculous survival. Gone were the private Christian School lessons, however, along with the welcoming, loving, and proud faces of the Sisters who'd helped raise her. Here, Barbara only knew sadness, and torment. Not just from the children, but from the recesses of her own mind.  
  
No matter what she did or how she tried, she could not stop dreaming of fire. Every time she closed her eyes it was everywhere; licking at the edge of her reach but never touching her. Making her temperature rise and her blood boil, but never actually burn her. There were few nights that went by that she didn't wake from some nightmare or dream, with her sheets soaked from perspiration, and a more shameful side effect of her fear.  
  
Not only did the children pick on her viciously, but many of her teachers looked down upon her in similar loathing as well. Barbara couldn't help if she had the knowledge and intelligence to point out a flaw or two in a teacher's instruction. It wasn't her fault that she could see the broader scope of Galileo's and Einstein's theory of relativity and space; that she could define just how small and minuscule their lives really were in the grand scheme of things, the universe, everything. Barbara only wanted to learn, to help, to grow. But she seemed squandered at every turn. All because of that stupid fire.  
  
Despite her new personal hell, Barbara still prayed every night, and even occasionally visited the old Abbey; which was still in a reconstruction phase. There she was welcomed with hugs, and tea and cookies. In those small moments she wasn't a freak, just a young girl. A blessing from God like any child brought into this world. In those moments she remembered women greater than her who had faced trials much worse than hers, and survived, all for a greater cause; to change the world. Putting a fine point on it however, a lot of her hope she only maintained to make the Sisters happy. They had taken her in, raised her, taught her. She didn't want to let them down. She owed them that much.  
  
Barbara also found respite during her monthly visits with Drs. Thomas and Martha Wayne. Thomas had been the one to oversee her care after the fire two years ago, and since then she had grown to look forward to his visits to the orphanage to oversee the children's healthcare and to make certain the local nurses were well informed and taking equally good care of them. Thomas could aptly see the intelligence in the young Miss Barbara and couldn't help but feel she were being squandered in such an environment. Not only that, but he did not like the reports the nurses gave him. Apparently Barbara was no stranger to the infirmary, and was seen on many occasions; scrapes, bruises, black eyes, on one occasion a broken wrist. It was almost uncanny, though, that never once had Barbara been treated for something as simple as a common cold. No spot of flu or fever. No sniffles, or ear infections. Every time little Barb had been seen was only for wounds of some sort or another. The nurse had obviously taken pity on her and tried to take care of Barbara as much as she could from her position of little power in the west wing, but she knew there was little else she could do; especially considering Barbara never blamed anyone, or accused anyone of giving her the bruises and things.  
  
Thomas knew there was something he had to do that would have to go beyond mere financial donations. He also knew that Martha would not object because they'd been poking around the idea for some time now; ever since Bruce was able to walk. It was only a question of whether Barbara would agree or not.  
  
The girl in question entered the small office and Thomas turned to her with a huge smile on his face. "Good morning, Barbara!"  
  
Despite her mood, Barbara couldn't help but smile big at the kind doctor's face. "Good morning, Dr. Wayne!"  
  
"How are you feeling today?" Thomas asked. He could tell she was trying to hide a bruised eye behind the fall of her bangs.  
  
Barbara shrugged. "Fine, I guess. No better or worse than normal." Her smile diminished to a polite upturn of her lips.  
  
Thomas set down the folder he was looking at. "I suppose you are probably wondering why I asked to see you today?"  
  
Another shrug. "Check-up as usual, I'd assumed? I'm fine, though, so you don't have anything to check."  
  
"Really, now?" He moved to brush her bangs away and she turned away from him. "How'd you get the black eye, Barbara?" Thomas asked.  
  
Barbara only shrugged and sank in on herself a little more. "I fell."  
  
Thomas sighed heavily and removed his glasses. He then turned towards the younge girl and reached out for her hand, which she let him take. "Barbara, listen to me. We've known each other for almost three years now, yes?" Barbara nodded. "And in that time, Martha and I have gotten to know the bright and gifted young girl you are and we've really come to care for you beyond that of a simple doctor and patient. Do you understand what I am saying?"  
  
Barbara nodded and worried her bottom lip. "I-I think so?"  
  
"Barbara, I want to ask you something and I need you to really listen, alright?" Another simple nod. "Mrs. Wayne and I have been discussing this for quite some time so I want you to know that we are in no way trying to take pity on you, or anything of the sort." He gently took her chin and lifted her face to look at him. "The truth, Barbara, is that we've fallen in love with you. Your intelligence, your inner strength, your wit, your spirit." Barbara's eyes began to water and her heart swelled. Thomas was fighting his own set of waterworks as he continued. "We would feel honoured and blessed if you would consider becoming a part of our family."  
  
Barbara's eyes closed, tears falling down her face. "But I'm a freak. You don't want me."  
  
Thomas got to his knees in front of her and he took her face in his hands, wiping at her tears. "Listen to me, Babs." Her heart fluttered slightly at the spontaneous nickname. "You are  _not_  a freak. You are a beautiful, wonderful gift. A light in this dark world that I fear will only be extinguished in a place like this."  
  
There were other children here, not just Barbara herself, who were on the abused side of the spectrum. Others who didn't possess Barbara's stubbornness and inner strength. Others who could not so easily stand up for themselves. Could she just leave them to their fate with no one to stand up for them?  
  
Thomas could tell she was inwardly conflicted. "You do not need to answer right now, Barbara." An idea then struck him, which he was sure Martha would approve. "But, in an attempt to help you make up your mind, how would you like to spend a weekend in our home. You can meet our son, Bruce, whom should you accept, would in essence be your new little brother. It would perhaps give you a better idea of what it would be like living with us, and help you make up your mind?"  
  
Barbara sniffled and swiped at her nose with her sleeve. She worried on her bottom lip as she thought long and hard about Thomas Wayne's offer. It was only a weekend. She didn't have to decide anything right now. After taking a deep breath, Barbara let it out on a sigh and gave a curt nod. "Alright. It would just be for the weekend? I don't have to decide anything right now?"  
  
Thomas nodded. "Of course, just for the weekend. Then after that you may take all the time you need to come to a decision. As much as we would love to have you in our family, we would never force you to do anything you didn't want to."  
  
"Very well, then. I accept." Barbara smiled and extended her hand. Thomas returned her smile and gave her hand a firm shake.  
  
"Everything will be arranged, sweetheart. You just take care of yourself and make sur eyou are packed and ready to go come Friday afternoon." Barbara hopped down off her chair and Thomas held the door open for her. He watched with a smile no his face as she literally skipped down the hallway towards her room. Thomas hung his coat on the rack by the door before he gathered some papers and left the office, locking it behind him. He had much to do, papers to file and people to see to make sure the arrangements really were in order for Barbara's visit this weekend. Martha will be so excited.


	3. A Weekend at Wayne Manor

**_|| October 28, 1981. Wayne Manor, Gotham City||_**  
  
Thomas Wayne couldn't shake the smile on his lips as he watched the foray of emotions flit across Barbara's face. She had never been in this part of the city before and the landscape seemed to fascinate her even more than the luxury of the houses and people they passed. Every now and then she'd point something out and ask a question. It was all so posh and lush to her, she didn't rightly know what to make of it. Barbara had come from the humblest of upbringings. Even considering that, from what Thomas had been told and from what he had learned himself, Barbara had never asked or wanted for anything. That alone was a major contributing factor to Thomas Wayne's desire to adopt the girl. Out of all the plethora of orphans out there, Barbara was one of the few he could see who wouldn't let the fame and fortune of the Wayne name go to her head.  
  
When they finally arrived at the Wayne estate Barbara plastered herself to the side window. In that moment she knew how orphan Annie must have felt when she first saw the Warbucks mansion. It was so grand and luxurious, beyond anything she could have possibly ever imagined and she didn't know how to feel, or what to say. Even when a white-haired man walked up to the vehicle and opened the door, Barbara continued her fish-mouthed stare.  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Barbara." Barbara took the man's offered hand to help her out of the vehicle. Once she was standing he bowed over her hand like a real gentleman, which made her giggle. "I am Alfred Pennyworth, miss. I am the head butler and caretaker for the Wayne family, so whatever you need you have but to ask." Alfred led her up the path a ways with Dr. Wayne in step behind them. Barbara grinned broadly when Alfred tucked her hand into his elbow like a real lady. "I have ever been so looking forward to meeting you, Miss Barbara. And might I say you are even lovelier than the Doctor and Missus have described."  
  
Barbara blushed and glanced back at Dr. Wayne, who smiled at her encouragingly. When they neared the front door Barbara noticed a small group gathered there. A thin but strong looking woman that judging by the way she was dressed, Barbara assumed could be a gardener or something. The woman was holding the hand of a younger girl with equally brown hair, who was closer to Barbara's age, but still younger by a year or two. Next to them stood Martha Wayne, who Barbara recognized without any trouble or delay. Martha flashed Barbara a big, bright smile and a wave. In front of Martha stood a young boy with a stoic expression. Barbara assumed this was Bruce judging by the way Martha's hands rested lovingly around the boy's shoulders. There also stood a small passel of other maids and butlers behind them, all seemingly awaiting to greet her.  
  
As the trio drew closer to the welcoming throng, the butterflies in Barbara's stomach began to flutter and she felt slightly queasy. Barbara's feet slowed then stilled completely which caused Alfred to need to stop next to her.  _All of this for her?_ Barbara though she wasn't worthy of it. She was nothing special. She didn't deserve this red-carpet treatment. Especially not just for one weekend.  
  
Suddenly Thomas' much larger hand enveloped her free one and the butterflies calmed almost drastically. When Dr. Wayne gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, Barbara turned her head to look up at him. Thomas gazed down at her with a warm smile. There was no hiding or faking the real love Barbara could see reflecting in his eyes and it made her heart melt and a feeling she'd never felt before began to warm her soul. Barbara took her hand from Alfred's elbow and brought laid her palm over her chest where her fingers idly brushed at the medallion hidden beneath her shirt. Everything was going to be alright. Barbara's mother, as she always assumed had to have been the person to leave her at the abbey with the medallion, told her to trust her feelings, and so Barbara would.  
  
With a new resolve, Barbara reciprocated Thomas' gesture and squeezed his hand, which he took as his signal to allow him to lead her forward. They stopped at the foot of the stairs where Martha came forward and wrapped Barbara up in a tight hug. The gesture warmed Barbara's heart further and she found her eyes tearing up ever so slightly. It had been so long since she'd felt wanted.  
  
Martha was crouched to her level and she held Barbara's face in her hands. "I am so happy you're here, darling." Barbara hadn't had reason to genuinely smile this much in years. "Come!" Martha prompted. The older woman then stood and turned to face the remaining greeters where she stood with her hands around Barbara's shoulders, very much the same way she'd been standing with Bruce only moments ago. Thomas held his hand out to Bruce, silently asking him to join them.  
  
"Barbara, this is our son Bruce." Thomas began. "Bruce, we'd like to introduce you to Barbara. She is going to be our very special house-guest for the weekend." The butterflies were back in Barbara's stomach but this time for an entirely different and foreign reason.  
  
"Hello." Bruce said, his face not giving much of anything away. "It's nice to meet you. I hope you'll like it here." Even to Barbara it sounded rehearsed. However, she did not hold it against him. The boy seemed like he was rather shy with strangers. Barbara could relate.  
  
Barbara flashed him a demure smile and shook his offered hand. Their touch set off a slight static discharge between the two, which made them both giggle contagiously. Bruce's smile only seemed to aggravate the butterflies in Barbara's stomach, which only made her giggle more. Pretty soon the entire gathered group was in a fit of laughter. Well, that was one way to break the ice.   
  
Moving down the line of introductions, Barbara was stopped in front of the brunette woman she had noticed earlier. "This is Mrs. Penelope Dawes, our resident gardener, landscaper and dear friend."   
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Barbara." Barbara nodded as she shook Mrs. Dawes hand.  
  
Barbara smiled as she replied, "Likewise, Mrs. Dawes!"   
  
"Oh, please, sweetheart, call me Penny!"  
  
Barbara's smile widened and she nodded; she definitely was not much of one for formalities. "Then you must also call me Barbara." They both nodded in agreement and the introductions continued.  
  
"This here is my daughter Rachel. You'll probably see her about the manner, quite often." Penny remarked.  
  
"Rachel's one of my best friends." Bruce spoke up, as he stepped up and took Rachel's hand then brought her over to Barbara.  
  
Rachel and Barbara shook hands. "Hi!" Rachel said with a genuine smile. "It's nice to meet you! I've heard so much about you!" Barbara giggled at Rachel's fast speech.  
  
"I think the three of you will become fast friends." Martha spoke.  
  
"The others you may meet as you see them around the manor." Alfred said. "The cook has prepared quite the lovely spread for supper on the terrace. If you will follow me." He offered his elbow to Barbara once again, which she took with a muffled giggle.  
  
Both Dawes women had been invited to supper, so the whole group made their way around toward the terrace.  
  
"So, Bruce. What do you think?" Thomas whispered to Bruce as he deliberately slowed their pace to walk behind the pack.  
  
Bruce was smart for his age, and observant. He didn't miss the fading bruises on her arms, neck and the nasty one on her eye. He could tell Barbara was shy, almost as much as he was, and there was this sadness in her that he just wanted to make go away. No one as pretty and good-hearted as Barbara seemed to be should ever be that sad. "I think she needs to stay here, dad," Bruce said after a pregnant pause.  
  
Thomas was slightly surprised by this because he and his wife hadn't mentioned the idea of adoption to Bruce, yet. They had only told their son that Barbara was coming for the weekend as a sort of charity for Gotham. So, to hear his own son say that he thought Barbara should live with them? Well it was music to his ears.  
  
Still, he didn't wanna push. "Why do you say that?" Thomas asked, not wanting to count his ducks before they were hatched.  
  
Bruce gazed after Barbara for a long moment before he answered. "Because she could be happy here, with us. Here she would be safe. Someone like Barbara deserves that, doesn't she?" Thomas 'mmm'ed in agreement, but Bruce wasn't finished so he let his son continue. "I mean, I know every child deserves to be happy and safe, dad, but..."  
  
"But what, Bruce?" Thomas urged his son to finish his thought.  
  
"I don't know." Bruce scratched the back of his head with his free hand, before shrugging subtly. "I just get this feeling that if she doesn't stay, dad, if she goes back to that place... Something bad could happen."  
  
Thomas squeezed his son's hand for reassurance. "Don't worry Bruce. Nothing is going to happen to Barbara."  _I won't let it_ , he finished the thought in his mind. "Bruce, I'm going to tell you something that your mother and I hadn't planned on telling you until it was official. But after just hearing what you said, I think it's safe to tell you." Thomas stopped and turned to crouch down to Bruce's level where he held his son's shoulders gently. "Your mother and I have asked Barbara to live with us; to become part of our family. However, for reasons I am not yet certain, she is hesitant about leaving the orphanage. According to some of the files I've read, I think it has to do with some of the other children. So, I promised her this weekend would only be a sort of trial run, because we don't want to force her. We will if we have to." Thomas amended. "In order to do what's best for her, but we would like it to be her decision."  
  
"So, what can I do?" Bruce asked.  
  
"I'm asking for your help." Thomas continued. "Whatever you can do to help our little Babs realize this would be the best place for her, then by all means do it."  
  
"Alright, dad." Bruce nodded, his face set in resolve. "You can count on me. Can I bring Rachel in on it?"  
  
"Of course, we need all the help we can get." Thomas smiled.  
  
"Awesome! Rachel and I'll show her a week she won't forget!" Bruce grinned, a new light in his eyes. "Hopefully by the time Sunday rolls 'round, she won't want to leave."  
  
"That's the spirit!" Thomas encouraged. Father and son shook hands as Thomas stood back to his full height. Thomas then wrapped his arm over his son's shoulder. "Now let's catch up with the others, shall we?" Bruce nodded and the two took off at a slight sprint. Thomas was happy to see the spirit and the light behind his son's eyes. Hopefully with his help they really could show Barbara how much she would be valued and cherished here.


End file.
